


Letters to No One

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 4+1 Things, Claude von Riegan Needs a Hug, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), F/M, Letters, Missing Persons, Pining, Presumed Dead, Soft Claude von Riegan, Stressed Claude von Riegan, claude's a lovesick fool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27061327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: Four times Claude sets out letters in search of Byleth, and one time he goes looking for her himself-Written as an Alternate Prompt for Whumptober Day 29: Presumed Dead
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915390
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Letters to No One

_i._

* * *

He writes the first letter a few months after the fall. A few months after life changed. After Teach had disappeared.

Claude wasn’t planning on sending it anywhere, or to anyone. To be honest, it wasn’t even a letter when he first picked up a quill and penned it out in a diary of his own, red-backed and filled with personal anecdotes from over his year at Garreg Mach and poison ingredients. Something done in the late of night, not really planning on sending it out to, well, anyone. A late night confession, of some way of expressing the knot he’d been feeling in his chest since the fall of Garreg Mach. A thing for only his eyes to see, written in Almyran, for only him to understand, much like the contents of Jeralt’s diary, hidden in a floorboard under his bed until such time he could give it to Teach.

Somehow, it ends up on finer parchment, written in a much neater (but still curly) words of the Fodlani language, and Claude watches the ink dry until he finds himself handing it to a messenger with instructions to send it to Garreg Mach. The messenger raises an eyebrow, but silence and a sharp look from Claude, however unintentional, keeps any questions from being asked.

_Dear Teach,_

_Where are you? It’s been a few months since the monastery has fallen, and you haven’t shown up, anywhere, as far as I know. Everyone’s been looking for you, you know. All of Deer - Leonie has been going around and asking some of the nearby villages if they’ve seen you, and I know Raphael and Ignatz have been asking the same thing of their merchant friends if they’ve seen you around. The rest of the Deer, myself included, have been really busy with the war and meetings and everything, but I know they’ve been keeping an ear out for you. Hilda… she’s optimistic, but I think the time is starting to get to her. Marianne’s been praying, and Lysithea and Lorenz won’t say anything, but… I know they’re worried about you._

_I am, too, to be honest. I… I would’ve expected you to show up by now, if not at Derdriu, then somewhere. Somewhere in the Alliance, or Faerghus, maybe. But… heh, I haven’t heard anything about you. Haven’t seen you since the fall of Garreg Mach. I… I’m not going to lie, I’m getting a little worried. I know you can take care of yourself, but… with the war, and the stress of all this, I’m just… worried. Worried about you, with Rhea gone, and now you._

_I don’t know if… if you’ll get this, and if you do, why… why you haven’t come back, yet, but if you… I hope you do come back, Teach. We all do. We miss you._

_-Claude von Reigan (And the Deer)_

To be honest, Claude wasn’t sure if he was expecting a response back, or if he sent it out just because. Still, when there came no response, Claude tried to ignore the pain that rang in his chest.

* * *

_ii._

* * *

A year later, his grandfather dies, and Claude finds the weight of the Alliance and the war thrust onto his shoulders.

The funeral is a big affair, with Godfrey being the leader of the Alliance. All the Deer attend, as do the other counts, and many other minor nobles. Claude catches up with old friends, people he hasn’t seen in ages. Lorenz is the same as ever, but there’s an odd formation of understanding between him in Claude. He wasn’t sure if that was because of his new role, or leftover from their time at the monastery, or both.

But, amidst the many people showing up for the funeral, all sharing stories of Godfrey over the course of his life, there’s only one person Claude cares about. His mother, with a thick veil to hide her face.

Once Godfrey is in the ground and buried, he takes her back to the Reigan estates and shuts the two of them in his room, alone.

They talk, catching up, and Claude fills in her on what’s been going on, while Tiana fills him in on the goings-on at home. Apparently, his older sister had gotten married during his time at the Officer’s Academy. And, although Claude doesn’t go quite into the specifics, he tells his mom of the Deer, of the friends he made, of Teach.

When she leaves, he reaches into his drawer and hands her a letter. His true friends home in Almyra were few and far in between, but he did have them. This letter is meant for one of them, another attempt to find his teacher, calling on an old favor (he wouldn’t dare write to Judith yet).

Maybe, he thinks, if she’s not in Fodlan, she might be somewhere else. Teach was a mercenary at her core, and maybe… maybe, as much as it hurt to think about, she had forgotten about him, and reverted back to her roots, leaving Fodlan entirely.

_Dear Rahim,_

_Hey. Been a few years, hasn’t it? Sorry I haven’t been reaching out, but… well, I couldn’t risk anyone figuring out all of my stuff while I was there. But with Godfrey’s death and mom coming over, well, I figured this would be a good time to write. And to call in that favor for you owe me, too._

_I’m looking for someone, actually. A good friend of mine. She disappeared, and I’m having a little trouble finding her. So, I was hoping if you could at least keep an ear out for her - you go all over the place all the time, and figured if anyone could find someone in Almyra, it would be you. She’s got mint-green hair and eyes to match, and a sword that blazes red and can cut mountains, and pale skin. Battle prowess that could probably best the likes of even Nader and father. Let me know if you find her, and if possible, if you could direct her to Derdriu. Her name is Byleth Eisner, also known as the Ashen Demon (and yes, there’s a reason for that name)._

_Thanks._

_-Khalid_

He receives a letter a few months later, and Claude dares to hope-

-but all it is is an apology from Rahim, a sorry for saying he hasn’t seen or even heard of anyone matching Teach’s description yet.

Claude crumples the letter up, and tries to ignore the pain in his chest, the tiny voice in his head asking the _what if_ question he doesn’t dare voice out loud.

* * *

_iii._

* * *

The third letter goes to the former Blue Lions students.

As far as friends outside of the Deer went, they were few and far in-between. But they were still allies, still former classmates, and against Edelgard’s plans to conquer Fódlan.

He had heard of Dimitri’s death, of course, and mourned for the loss of the prince. Although he had never gotten particularly close to him, Claude had still admired the prince, saw him as a potential future ally, much more cooperative than Edelgard. But the Kingdom was starting to lose the war, and Claude didn’t want to know what would happen if Byleth, who had fought with the Deer against her, got stuck in Empire territory.

Again, Claude knew Teach could take care of herself, but… if she could, then why hadn’t she come back yet? Why hadn’t she come for him, and if not him, then the Deer? Where was she?

There were three options that he could think of. None of them eased his worries, so he tried not to think of them. The best one, though, the one he was leaning towards, was that she had just lost her memory. It would line up with all her other weirdness, and it was the most painless one.

If she lost her memory, Claude could always try again, try and see if she remembers them, remembers him. It would take a while, and it would still hurt - but he could still build something from it, still have her by his side.

If she was captured, it meant Claude would have to power his way through the Empire to rescue her. A feat that was practically impossible at this point. And if she was dead…

No. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be.

He just had to find her.

Thus, the letters. Handed off to Felix when the swordsman came for a diplomatic visit, along with some supplies and food _(not that he’d tell anyone other than the two of them. Plausible deniability - he needs to remain neutrality)._ One for each of the Blue Lions members still alive.

_Dear Ingrid,_

_Hey, Ingrid. First off, I want to say I’m sorry about Dimitri. He was a good man - a good prince, and he… he deserved better than what he got. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do much more to help, but it’s hard enough keeping the Alliance from fracturing as is. Be grateful you don’t have to deal with diplomacy._

_I know I haven’t written to you in, well, ever, or talked to you much since the monastery’s fall, but I hope you're doing okay. And I also want to know if you’ve seen any sign of, or even just heard, from Teach. Me and the rest of the Deer hadn’t, not since the battle, but my sources only go so far._

_Thanks_

_-Claude von Reigan_

He got a letter a few weeks later.

_Dear Claude,_

_Thank you for your kindness - it’s been tough, but we’re hanging in there. Edelgard will not beat us. The supplies are greatly appreciated. And you’re really not as subtle as you think you are. But I’m afraid I haven’t seen or even heard anything of the Professor. I’ve been keeping an ear out and eye open, but it… it's like she’s disappeared off the face of the earth. And as far as I know, the other Lions haven’t either. Otherwise, I feel like Dimitri wouldn’t have been killed._

_I’ll continue to keep an ear out, but… It’s been three years. Maybe I’m being pessimistic, but I think that if she hasn’t shown up by now, then… she might be dead, Claude. I hope, for all our sakes, she’s not, but you can see what it looks like, right?_

_I do hope you find her though._

_-Best wishes, Ingrid Brandl Galatea_

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair. Realistically, he knew Ingrid was right, that something had to have happened to Teach for her to not show up by now, but…

He crumpled the letter again, shaking his head and ignoring the pain in his chest. She couldn’t be dead. Claude wanted - needed - her by his side, while he fought against Edelgard, while he achieved his dreams. He couldn’t bear to think of any other options.

Still, the Deer speak it when they think he’s not hearing.

_Byleth Eisner, presumed dead._

* * *

_iv._

* * *

The final letter goes to a spy he planted in the Empire ages ago. He wasn’t daring to go to Edelgard or Hubert with this, but this was a last-resort option - and if Byleth had been captured, well, Claude would have to figure out a way to deal with it.

It’s short, simple, and to the point.

_Need you to see if there’s any information about a Byleth Eisner. Might be a POW. The Tactician._

The letter he receives back is just as short.

_No information gleaned. Snake Eyes._

Claude curses in Almyran, knocking his drink back, hands shaking. It’s been four years, and if she isn’t a hostage or POW, then… then where the hell is she? Where the hell was Byleth at? He’s sent out letters and search parties everywhere he can think of, but there’s been no sign of it - it’s like she was sucked back up into that darkness Solon trapped her in.

She can’t have just abandoned them - abandoned _him_ , right? No, she cared too much about them for that, to leave them - leave him - to fend for themselves.

Or maybe… maybe she would, and Claude was just… Claude was just hoping she wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself like everyone else he knew.

He missed her. _Stars_ , he missed her so much it hurt, like a physical wound that was leaving him on the ground, bleeding to death and gasping for air. Byleth had become so important to him, so quickly, and now- now she was gone. Vanished into thin air, leaving him teetering precariously on a knife’s point, the edge between the past and the now, and his - their - future.

A future was coming, but it wasn’t the one Claude was hoping for, not yet. And it wouldn’t be that way until Byleth came back, to stand by his side, fight with him. But each day, it seemed like he was one step closer to falling on the bad ending, the one that would leave with him dead, his dreams destroyed, and no Byleth in sight.

But…

Claude’s gaze travels to the calendar at his desk. It was the Pegasus moon of 1184, now, and the Ethereal moon would be approaching in nine months. Nine months until the promise.

She had to show up then. Byleth had made a promise, and Claude knew she wouldn’t go back on it. It’s his last, final hope, final hope that she’s still out there, that she hasn’t abandoned him. His last chance to see if she’s alive, or to see if he should just cut his losses, properly mourn, and move on.

His hands are still shaking, eyes wet with unshed tears.

* * *

_+i._

* * *

Even while wrecked, the monastery still holds some sort of beauty.

There’s a gaping hole in the chapel roof, of course, and the village and monastery both all but abandoned, but it still holds the same charm, the same sense of mysteriousness it did five years ago, even if that was undercut by the lonesomeness, the sadness, of it. Of all the memories Claude had collected there, some of his fondest since his birth.

Teasing Lysithea until she stormed off or attacked him. Spiking Lorenz’s tea with stomach poison with Hilda. Taking care of the horses with Marianne. Doing archery with Leonie and Ignatz. Tearing into some pheasant with Raphael. Admiring Byleth as she fought (even if his gaze was, more often than not, drawn to her ridiculous tights later on in the year). Hunting for that rare smile and that rarer laugh from his Byleth.

His Byleth. God, he really was a lovesick fool, wasn’t he?

But, then again, only lovesick fools saw the faces of the person they loved in their dreams. At this point, Claude wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse - being able to see some semblance of Byleth, hear her voice, but it never being real. She haunts his dreams now, and he swears it's starting to drive him insane.

He dropped down outside of the gates, leaving his wyvern, Jigsaw, to rest after the journey. It was too silent as he walked through, the market stalls overturned, the stray animals gone, the pond mucky and all of the flowers in the greenhouse dead and wilting.

Claude remembered seeing Byleth there, once, while he was planting seeds for plants that he could use as poisons. She was tending to some flowers, taking care of them with the utmost care. In the market, they would take the fish she caught and meat they gathered from the wild and feed it to the animals, despite monastery rules. At the pond, he would read texts taken from the library while she fished, occasionally helping her out with the bigger catches.

How strange it was, to think this had all happened five years ago, when it felt like only yesterday to him.

Most of the rooms were abandoned and pillaged, including Claude’s own, his poisons gone. He winced, feeling bad for whoever took the brunt of that. But, surprisingly, most of the books he had never returned were left intact.

Byleth’s room appeared to be untouched, everything dusty, a single, worn letter sitting on the other side of the door. It was easy to recognize his own handwriting, recognize the letter he had first written out in his diary, and then sent to Garreg Mach in hopes of him getting some kind of response.

Apparently, it never had reached Byleth in the first place.

Claude gulped at that.

Jeralt’s tombstone was worn and faded and cracked from years of it being untreated, and Claude knelt down next to it, brushing off some of the stray bits of land and wilted, dead flowers resting on the stone. Made a silent promise to restore it to its former glory once he gets the monastery up and running again.

The final place Claude goes to is the Goddess tower, hope fraying with each checked room and pathway he can think of. And he knows it’s still early, day not even breaking yet, but it’s close, and the monastery really has been abandoned. But this is where Claude made a promise to himself to keep Byleth by his side, for their dreams to come true. And it just… it feels right.

For a few moments, he waits by the window at the top, the sun about to break over the horizon on a new dawn. Takes in the view of the outstretched land, the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach, the painted sky.

_Click. Click._

Footsteps. Heels on stone. A hitched breath.

Claude knows. Even without seeing her, he knows.

He turns, and sees Byleth coming up the stairs, as radiant as ever. She’s looking at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Claude smiles, grins, heart rising to the heavens in his chest as he looks at her.

“What’s with that surprised look, my friend?” He asks her as a new dawn breaks.

**Author's Note:**

> [I Have a Tumblr!](https://ccwritesstuff.tumblr.com/)


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